Page 77 of The Fall

Our kiss breaks, but only for air. Our foreheads rest together, eyes closed, breath mingling in short, sharp gasps.

Moonlight paints silver stripes across his face.

He looks wrecked and beautiful. I’m trembling for him, with love for him, with the need to show him every unspoken thing tangled up inside me.

“Is this okay? We don’t have to?—”

“I want to,” he says. “God, I want to.”

I surge forward, capturing his mouth again, pouring everything I can’t say into the kiss.

His arms tighten around me, and we roll until I’m beneath him.

The kiss deepens until it stops being one kiss and becomes a whole conversation, one I’ve waited so long to have that I scream every syllable of it.

The room dissolves into skin and breath and the faint rustle of cotton sheets. There is a terrifying rightness to his lips moving over mine, as if we’ve done this a thousand times when we’ve barely begun.

His kiss turns desperate, as if he’s been starving for this as long as I have. His cock hardens against my thigh. My hands find the hem of his shirt. He inhales, muscles jumping beneath my touch as I trace the ridges of his abs and the dip of his navel.

He helps me peel his shirt off, arms lifting as I drag the fabric over his head.

I’ve seen him shirtless countless times in the locker room, but never like this, never in the quiet light of his bedroom.

Shadows play across the planes of his chest, highlighting every dip and curve of muscle.

The moonlight turns his skin to marble. I spread my palms against his chest, drinking in the heat of him, the steady thud of his heart. His skin burns against mine.

A small scar curves along his collarbone and I follow its path with my fingertip.

“Puck went high,” he says. “In Bantam.”

I kiss the scar, and then I kiss the hollow of his throat, the curve of his shoulder, the dip between his pecs.

His heartbeat kicks against my kiss, and his head falls back, exposing the long line of his throat.

His breath comes faster as my fingers trail lower, following the thin line of hair that disappears beneath his waistband.

He pulls me up to kiss me again, deep and slow, and I melt against him. His hands frame my face, holding me like he can memorize every atom. “Tell me what you want,” he says, his thumb brushing my lower lip. There’s a quiet, wrecked longing buried within him, seeping out now.

What I want is everything: every touch, every kiss, every moment I can have. “You,” I say simply. “You.”

His hands slide down my back, gripping my hips, then slip under my shirt. He tugs at the hem, breaking the kiss only long enough to ask, “Can I take this off?”

I nod. Cool air hits my skin, raising goosebumps across my chest.

“God, Torey,” he breathes, running his hands over my shoulders, down my chest.

I dip my head to kiss him again as his fingers explore me, mapping every inch. When his thumb brushes over my nipple, I shudder, pressing closer.

My hands shake as I trace the edge of his sweats, dipping just below the elastic.

“Can I?” I whisper.

He nods, lifting his hips. “Yes.”

I pull his sweatpants down, revealing black boxer briefs stretched tight over his thick erection. My mouth goes dry at the damp spot where he’s leaked through the cotton. I drag my thumb over it, and he bucks against my hand with a sharp intake of breath.

“Torey,” he gasps.

I press my thumb harder against the damp fabric, circling slowly, feeling the heat of him seep through. His hips jerk again, and a low, broken sound escapes his throat.

I drag my lips over the outline of him, tasting faint salt through the cotton.

He trembles under me, muscles tensing as he fights to hold still.

My hands slide up his thighs, thumbs brushing his sensitive inner skin.

I want to tear his briefs away and feel every inch of him bare against me, but I hold back, savoring the slow burn of this moment.

My tongue licks against the damp spot at the head of his cock, and he groans.

“Fuck,” Blair breathes, voice rough like gravel. I look up at him, catch the way his head tips back, exposing the long column of his throat, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows.

I hook under the waistband of his briefs, pausing long enough to meet his eyes. They’re dark, pupils blown wide. My heart pounds so hard it’s a drum in my ears.

I’m in deep, deeper than I’ve ever been, and there’s no turning back. I don’t want to. I tug, my voice low and unsteady as I ask, “This okay?”

“Please.”

That single word, laced with desperation, ignites me.

His breath catches again, a sharp sound that cuts through the quiet room, and I’m hyper-aware of every shift, every shudder, as I peel his briefs away.

He’s hard, flushed, and so damn perfect. A bead of precome glistens at the tip, and I spread it across his head. He grabs the sheet, knuckles white.

I drop a soft kiss at the base of his cock, inhaling the musky scent of his skin. My lips trail upward, tasting the salt and warmth of him as I go. His thighs tense, trembling.

“Blair…”

His name feels like a confession, a plea. I flick my tongue against him, teasing. He arches off the bed, a gasp ripping from him.

I hold his gaze as I take him in, savoring the bitter-salt taste of him. I’ve wanted this for so long, dreamed about it, and now he’s here. I pull back, swirling my tongue around the head before sinking down again.

The taste of him, his cock on my tongue, the way his thighs tremble beneath my palms—It’s all exactly as I remembered and shatteringly new at the same time. I take him in, in, in, until my nose brushes the coarse hair at the base of his cock.

“Your mouth—Fuck?—”

I grip the base of his cock, steadying him, steadying myself. I want to make this good for him, want to take my time, want to worship every inch of him. I hollow my cheeks as I suck, and he whimpers, a sound I’ve never heard from him before, a sound I want to hear again and again.

I want this moment burned into memory forever: Blair beneath me, naked, wanting, gazing up at me open and bare, his eyes thrown open to reveal the still, deep waters at the base of his soul. I’m lost in it, in him, and I don’t ever want to be found.

He fights to keep still, to not thrust up into my mouth. His quads flex and fire, the muscles jumping, and his heels dig into the mattress at my hips. He groans, low and rough-edged, when my tongue swirls slow circles at his tip before sliding down to his root again.

His noises turn sharper, less controlled. It feels so natural I have to remind myself this is the first time.

Every sound he makes goes straight to the hungry part of me that’s starved for him.

His cock leaves a trail of lightning across my tongue and down my throat.

He’s shaking apart, and I’m vowing my love with every suck and stroke of my tongue, imprinting my devotion as I swallow and swirl. I will give you everything.

He pants. “I—I can’t?—”

“Stop,” he finally gasps. “I don’t want to come yet.” Every muscle in his body is strung tight as wire.

His groan turns into a gasp when I crawl back up his body and seal our mouths together, letting him taste himself on my tongue while I grind against him shamelessly.

He mouths down to my sternum, dropping slow kisses in a line along bone and muscle.

My breath stutters, and he rolls us again so he’s over me, knees bracketing my thighs.

His lips are hot on me, his tongue tracing a hot line from my neck to collarbone.

Breathing is impossible; there’s no oxygen left in this room, between us, around him. He has burned it all away.

He drops a kiss above my heart, then starts a slow crawl down my body, trailing kisses and nibbles and soft, sucking bruises down my belly and my hips.

He kneels between my legs, and his hands push gently at my knees until they fall open for him.

He leaves a line of open-mouthed kisses along the crease where my thigh meets my hip, moving closer to my cock.

“I’ve thought about this,” he confesses, looking up at me through his lashes. “About you like this.”

“Me too,” I whisper. “So many times.”

He never breaks eye contact, not once, as the tip of his tongue traces the vein running along the underside of my cock before flattening out and licking up my shaft. Then?—

The first brush of his lips is ecstasy: soft pressure, heat, so much heat, and, oh ?—

I arch off the bed. A moan rips from me. He takes me in inch by inch until I’m buried in his mouth. Warmth envelopes me, slick and impossibly soft.

I fight to keep my eyes open, to watch him. His dark hair falls forward as he moves, and I reach down with my free hand to brush it back, needing to see his face. He hums against me, the vibration shooting up my spine.

“God, Blair,” I breathe out, my voice breaking on his name.

He pulls off for a moment. “Tell me what you want.”

“You,” I gasp.

He takes his time, learning me and the moves that make my toes curl: swirling his tongue around my head, drawing lazy circles before he sucks me deep.

Each time, he takes more of me in, sucks more of me harder.

I clutch at his pillow, heels digging into the mattress.

My thighs quiver around his head. His saliva drips down me and soaks my balls.

He pulls off to catch his breath but keeps stroking me. He kisses the inside of my thigh. “You taste so good.”

God, his voice is roughened and ragged because of me.

He works me slowly, backing off only when my moans break apart and I claw at his shoulders.

He nuzzles my thighs then, leaving hickeys and love bites on all my tender places until I can run my fingers sweetly through his hair again.

Then his lips are back on me, suctioned around my cock, going down, down, down?—

It’s sweet torture, absolutely unrelenting, building waves inside of me that crash and scream and beg. I rock up into him, chasing him, needing more. I’m ratcheting higher, tighter, soaring toward a release that feels imminent, inevitable.

“Blair,” I gasp. “Not yet, not yet, not yet.”

He pulls off and slides up the bed, beside me as close as he can. His lips are swollen and wet, his eyes dark and wild, and he kisses me so deeply I taste myself on his tongue.

This kiss is deeper, hungrier, all thoughts of restraint abandoned. His tongue slides against mine, and I moan into his mouth, overwhelmed. He threads both hands through my hair. “Torey…” It’s barely a whisper.

Our cocks slide sticky-slick between our bellies, my hips rolling into his, his cock right up against mine. He wraps his arms around me and pulls us closer, until no air remains between us except what we can trade between our kiss.

I suck his bottom lip into my mouth. He hooks one thigh around my leg.

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” he confesses.

“I have, too.” He can’t know how true that is for me, how it feels like I’ve lived lifetimes loving and losing and loving him again.

Friction builds unbearably between us. I kiss away each of his gasps, his moans. His hand wraps around us both, stroking, and I add my hand to his, our fingers intertwining.

“Like this?” he asks, voice strained.

“Yes,” I gasp. “Just like that.”

We move together like waves finding shore. His eyes, God, his eyes ruin me. There’s nowhere to hide, nothing between us but truth, and I see everything in him. Blair’s eyes, his lips, the little gasps and tremors and moans he drops into my soul—they are my world.

We take our time, stretching minutes into forever.

I’m going to drown inside of him, lose myself entirely, and when I do, it will be perfect.

I’ll shatter, and shake out all my broken pieces, all the wrong fantasies and desperate hopes that rotted within me, and I’ll be made new, made whole, made his .

He’s close, so close. I feel the tremors running through him, the way his whole body strains. He breathes my name; I ride the edge with him.

His hand tightens around us, and that’s all it takes to push me over.

Release rips through me, violent and all-consuming, stealing my breath, stealing my sight. Blair follows a heartbeat later, his face buried in my neck, a long, low groan torn from him, his cum hot and thick on my skin.

We lie like that, tangled and catching our breath, the only sounds the whisper of the ceiling fan and the distant lap of water against the dock.

We shift closer until our knees bump, our calves hook, and our toes curl tight together under the sheet tangled at our feet, as close as spent waves and sea foam.

Blair kisses my forehead, my cheek, my lips, soft like the dawn waiting beyond the horizon. “I’ll be right back.”

He returns with a warm washcloth for us both. When he’s done, he tosses it aside and slides back into bed, pulling me against him.

“Are you okay?” This is new territory for us, a line crossed that we can’t uncross.

His eyes are vulnerable and beautiful. “I’m great,” he says. “Better than great.” His hand comes up to my face, thumb brushing across my bottom lip. “You?”

“I’m...” Words fail me. How do I tell him I’m broken open and put back together all at once? “Perfect.”

He smiles, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

We breathe together in the quiet. His heartbeat thumps steady under my palm. His skin is warm against mine, damp with sweat, and I can’t stop touching him.

I shift closer, throwing my leg over his. The sheet rustles as it slides further down our bodies. Blair’s arm tightens around my waist, drawing me half on top of him until we’re chest to chest.

His hands slide up my back, following my spine, one vertebra at a time. “We have all night,” he says, and his voice vibrates through his chest into mine. “If you want.”

“I want.” My lips brush against his throat as I speak, breathing in the scent of salt and soap and sex. “I want everything with you.”

Blair’s hands cup my face, tilting it up until our eyes meet.

“Then everything is what you’ll get.” He pulls me into a kiss that starts gentle but deepens quickly. His tongue slides against mine, and I moan into his mouth, my body already responding, already wanting more. His hands move lower, gripping my hips, guiding me against him. He’s hard, too.

“Already?” I breathe against his lips, smiling.

“Always,” he says. “For you, always.”